


Accountabilibuddyable

by elderprices



Category: The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: Alternate Universe - Conversion Camp, First Time, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Minor Character Death, Multi, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-27 20:21:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5062744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elderprices/pseuds/elderprices
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor McKinley is admitted to a Mormon conversion camp after coming out to his parents. But when he meets (and falls for) his new "accountabilibuddy", Kevin Price, he begins to doubt whether he wants to be "cured" or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a really old fic I originally published to my tumblr about two years ago, and I didn't touch it up at all before passing it over here. The main premise is loosely inspired by the South Park episode "Cartman Sucks".

Steve’s tongue tasted sweet and his breath was warm. Connor could close his eyes and slosh his own tongue about and still taste the kiss weeks later. His childhood friend was everything he had dreamt of and more–he was passionate and caring and his tongue worked wonders on every part of Connor’s body.

 

He gave a little quivering sigh in the backseat of the car. His father’s stern eyes shot to the rearview mirror in a scowl.

“We’re almost there.” He huffed, his grip tightening around the wheel. Connor shuddered as his daydream dissipated, leaving him alone with his father with the crackling radio signal the only sound to ever break the silence. He sat up in his seat to peer out his window. They had been driving for hours into some remote part of the state, where buildings were scarce and cars barely whizzed by on the two-way backroad. But finally, coming into view on the horizon sat the gleaming white sign of their destination–Mr. McKinley smiled gratefully.

“There it is, son.” He hummed in admiration. “‘Camp New Grace for Boys’. Supposed to be the best camp in the whole nation. Hopefully the people here will be able to set you right.” They pulled up to a small house, pristine and bright in the afternoon sunlight. Connor glanced back out his window to the crowd of boys who bounded playfully across the courtyard. He stuck his thumb into his mouth and chewed nervously on the nail as he watched anxiously.

A man on the front steps of the house waved their car over with a smile. He waited patiently with clipboard in hand as Mr. McKinley and a hesitant Connor stepped out of the car. Then his smile seemed to widen as he stuck out a hand to the boy’s father.

“Great to see you again, Mr. McKinley. I’m really happy your son’s agreed to do this.” His voice was calm and welcoming as they shook hands with vigor. Mr. McKinley gave a trying pat on his son’s shoulder and nodded his head less enthusiastically.

“Yes, well… we both agreed that this is what’s best for him.” He spoke more for himself than for Connor, who merely stood staring down at his feet as he chewed away at his thumbnail. The man gave a genuine laugh.

“It really is what’s best.” Then he turned to Connor and nodded. “We’re going to help you here, Connor. We’re gonna fix you. Alright?” The redheaded boy tried a smile and a terse twitch of a nod. The man seemed pleased with that, and turned back to Mr. McKinley, holding out the clipboard.

“Alrighty, then! If you’ll just sign this please, sir, we can get Connor to his room and assign him his accountabilibuddy.” Mr. McKinley paused, pen in his hand, and twisted his face into a frown.

“His… _accountabilibuddy_?” He echoed.

“Yessir! Each camper is assigned a roommate from his age group. The two of them spend every waking moment together to ensure they’re both keeping up with scripture and that neither of them break any rules, you see?” Connor’s stomach dropped.

“I’m… getting a… _roommate_?”

“An _accountabilibuddy_.” The man corrected with a wink. Mr. McKinley clicked the pen a few times suspiciously. For a moment, he studied his son with narrowed eyes. But then he shrugged and signed a scribble on the dotted line.

“Well, you are the experts here. Who am I to question what you do?” He clapped his hand around the man’s again as they exchanged one more hearty handshake. “As long as he comes out normal. That’s all that matters.”


	2. Chapter 2

“We’re very happy to have you as part of our program here, Connor. Many young men like yourself have been treated here, and they all come out good as new!”

The head counselor led Connor through the small living room of the dormitories, where a few boys sat slumped over in couches, pouring over scripture. The counselor stopped to give one of them an encouraging pat on the shoulder–he winced at the touch.

“It’s only natural to be confused, Connor. All of the staff members you’ll meet have been through the same treatments you will be put through. We’ve all be confused once or twice. But luckily, we’ve all learned that our unclean urges can simply be cancelled out through prayer and Heavenly Father’s blessing.” Connor swallowed hard. He had read all the pamphlets, and knowingly signed a contract agreeing to be put in the program, but now the idea of his brain being manipulated left an unsavory taste in his mouth. Would he remember who he was when he left the camp in a couple weeks? Would he still be able to feel Steve’s tongue against his own, and feel his hands roaming his bare chest, and feel his heavy breath on his neck?

“Your accountabilibuddy has already been here for two weeks, and he’s made excellent progress so far. He’s one of the best camp members this season! He’ll be able to teach you a whole lot, for sure.” The camp counselor stopped at a door with a bold **23** painted onto the wood. He fished through his pockets for a moment before pulling out a ring of keys, each labeled with a different room number. After briskly fitting the key to the lock, he swung open the door to a cramped, balmy, dimly-lit closet of a room. In the small sliver of light of the window sat a boy at a desk, his hand scribbling away at the pages of a notebook. The counselor cleared his throat, and the boy stood to militaristic attention.

“Working hard as usual, I see.” He gestured proudly to his star pupil. “This is Kevin Price, your new accountabilibuddy. Kevin, this is Connor McKinley.” The redhead gave a weak smile as he held out his hand. Kevin watched him in disgust and less-than-politely turn down his offer.

“I just finished copying the last pages of _Enos_ like you told me, Mr. Grant.” The boy scurried to his table to neatly tear the work from his book, only to hop back and hand them to the counselor. Mr. Grant smiled gratefully and clapped his hand on Kevin’s squared shoulder.

“You see? He’s a model student, Connor. A gift to Camp New Grace, for sure.”

“Uh-huh.” Connor popped his thumb into his mouth to nibble at the nail. Mr. Grant watched awkwardly from the sidelines as the two new roommates studied one another, one with admiration and the other with trained repulsion. Then the counselor sighed contentedly and made his way to the door.

“Well, alright. I’ll let the two accountabilibuddies get to know each other a little bit better, okay? Dinner’s at six, Connor! Kevin can show you the way to the mess hall. Have fun!”

The door was slammed shut. The hollow sound of a clicking lock echoed against the bare walls of the room. Connor shifted uncomfortably in his place, noticing that Kevin was still eyeing him suspiciously. Finally he resigned to his desk, where he flipped open the Book of Mormon to a bookmarked page and continued scribbling. Connor was taken aback by the silence, and if only a little offended that his new “accountabilibuddy” was ignoring him. He stepped towards the bunk beds on the other end of the room and in an instant, Kevin swiveled round in his chair to face the other boy.

“My last accountabilibuddy killed himself.” He spat the words out so fast Connor almost lost his footing. The redhead was struck by a sudden sickness as he melted away from the other in fear. Kevin was stoic. He pointed his pencil casually to the small closet in the corner and nodded once. “He hung himself in there a week ago, and I got punished for it.” He held up the Book of Mormon for Connor to see–different colored tabs hung off pages and post-it notes read specific instructions for copying scripture. Connor gave a long, trembling sigh.

“I… I’m sorry…” He could already feel the tears forming in the corners of his eyes. Kevin shrugged before turning back to his notes.

“You don’t have to be sorry. Just don’t kill yourself. Because I’m accountabilibuddyable for you now.”

“Accountabilibuwhat?”

“Just do whatever I do and neither of us will get in trouble, okay? And then we can both go back home.”

The ticking of a bedside clock and Kevin’s hurried writing were the only sounds in the room. Connor sat against the bottom bunk, watching the closet on the other side of the room with solemn eyes. Just a few days ago, a kid was hanging from that ceiling. And days before that, the kid was still alive and breathing. Maybe there was a point, before Camp New Grace, when he was happy and confident in who he was, and didn’t have these unclean urges, and was loved by his family.

It scared Connor to think how easily all that could change.


	3. Chapter 3

Kevin was the only boy in the dormitory hall who still had a sprightly step. While the rest of the camp members dragged their feet and avoided eye contact at all costs, Connor’s accountabilibuddy strode with confidence to the mess hall, barely giving him room to keep up. Boys smiled sheepishly as the two of them passed–some gave hesitant waves or greeted Kevin under their breaths. Connor was impressed. There was no arguing with Mr. Grant that Kevin Price was the best in the camp. Everyone seemed to think so, counselors and members alike.

The mess hall was eerily quiet considering the hundred or so boys crammed inside it. Members filed through the cafeteria line without a word, and they would only offer a murmur as part of conversation when they were at their tables. The two tagged onto the end of the line; Kevin stood flipping through pages of scripture as he waited. Connor watched uncomfortably from behind as he chewed hungrily at his thumbnail.

“Do you, uh… do you always bring the Book of Mormon around with you?” He bit his tongue at the sad initiation of conversation. Kevin only gave a nod as he continued reading, following his finger along the text. The redhead teetered on his heels in thought. If he’s going to be rooming with this boy for the next few weeks, he might as well get to know him, right? “So you… uh… why’d _you_ get sent here?”

Kevin slammed his book shut. Horrified, he turned slowly to face Connor with a scowl pulling down at his mouth. His lips quivered in the start of a sentence, as if he didn’t exactly know how to answer correctly. But then he took a deep breath, and his perfect Kevin Price composure was maintained.

“It was a misunderstanding.” He shuffled down the cafeteria line, hands busily grabbing at this and that to pile onto his dinner tray. “Someone in school spread a rumor about me, that’s all.” His pale eyes darted back to Connor, to see if he believed him. The redhead seemed content for the moment being. His lips were pursed to keep himself from saying more–it was best to stick to small talk from now on, he decided with a wince. Kevin hiked his tray of food up and trekked confidently across the floor with his accountabilibuddy straying in back. Their assigned table was a small group of boys, all of whom sat silently and picked endlessly at the mush on their trays without acknowledging the others. But when Kevin placed his food at the head of the table, the members looked up in wonder, and small smiles tugged at their lips.

“Hi, Kevin.” Connor had to stand on tip-toes to see over his roommate’s shoulder. The boy who greeted Kevin was genuinely smiling as he nibbled away the remains of his pop tart. His name tag, stuck crooked to his blue polo, read, “Hello! My name is Patrick Thomas” in crude print. Kevin gave him a short nod as he sat down.

“Is this your new ‘buddy?” Another boy asked, slightly taller than Patrick with a much less enthusiastic smile–his nametag proclaimed “Sheldon Church”. Kevin nodded again and gestured for his partner to sit down next to him on the bench.

“I… my name’s Connor.” He mumbled to his hands, folded pathetically in his lap. Patrick took another, bigger bite to finish off the last of his pop tart. As he chewed, he seemed to nod his head at Connor in approval.

“Patrick.” He poked a sticky finger to his nametag, despite the redhead obviously having acknowledged it earlier. And then, with an annoyed wave of his hand, he turned to his partner. “This is my accountabilibuddy, Sheldon.”

“We’ve been here together for a _month_.” Sheldon’s voice dragged in a miserable monotone. “I’m pretty sure we’ve been kept here the longest in camp history.” A boy down at the other end of the table tittered under his breath. Both Sheldon and Patrick’s heads snapped up and over to him. Their eyes glared and threatened.

“That’s because you’ve been fooling around since you came here.” He spoke under his breath, but his remark was loud enough for their whole table to hear. Sheldon started up from his seat; Patrick tried with all his might to pull him back down by his shirt collar. Kevin Price, the rational voice of reason at the head of the table, sat and watched in quiet annoyance.

“Be quiet, David.” He ordered, and then waited patiently with folded hands. The boy on the end of the table–nametag reading David Neeley–shut up and turned his attention down to his tray, hoping no one would notice the growing redness on his ears. Sheldon looked to Kevin, then to David, then to Connor (who watched horrified across from him), and to his accountabilibuddy, who seemed ready to cry at any second. He was defeated. Slowly he sunk down next to Patrick–Connor was sure the two of them briefly brushed fingertips as they settled. Their cheeks radiated in the harsh fluorescent light of the mess hall.

“They’re not usually like this.” Kevin spoke like a disappointed parent to his accountabilibuddy. He watched the two of them eat in silence before leaning over to whisper to Kevin, out of earshot.

“What did David mean?” He asked simply. His partner pursed his lips, as if he was about to avoid the question. But he sighed and leaned into the conversation.

“It’s true.”

“ _What’s_ true?”

“The two of them.”

“Do they _really_?”

“ _Shhh_!” Kevin looked around to see if they were listening. And after a pause,”…yeah. Chris Davis says he hears them almost every night in the room next to his.” Connor blushed at the thought. His partner watched him sag into his seat out of embarrassment, his face burying slowly into his collared shirt. He sighed in dismay.

“So you’re here for a reason.” Kevin’s voice dripped with blatant condescension. The redhead was taken aback by the accusation. The pink across his face deepened to a red.

“Wh-what do you mean?” He stammered as he desperately tried to distract himself with a spoonful of applesauce. The taller boy rolled his eyes–Connor wondered how they hadn’t rolled all the way back by now.

“You’re here because you’ve upset Heavenly Father.” He pointed matter-of-factly towards the ceiling. Then he tapped the cover of his Book of Mormon before sliding it over to him. “ _Alma 39: 3-5_ states that sexual immorality of any kind is a sin.” Kevin’s eyes sparkled with newfound revelation, and he leaned forward in interest. “You’ve been sexual immoral, _haven’t you_?”


	4. Chapter 4

Connor felt uncomfortable. Kevin had specifically told him to relax, to make himself comfortable on the bottom bunk–the Kevin Price bunk–and still he was uncomfortable. But maybe that was because his accountabilibuddy sat no more than a foot away from him, ankle crossed over his knee casually as he awaited a recount of Connor’s sexual exploits. Or maybe it was the Book of Mormon he held in his hands, or the tap-tap-tap of his index fingers against the navy binding of the cover.

“I’m never going to be able to help you until you tell me.” Kevin’s eyes were piercing in the intensity of sunset that poured through the window in cracks of light. His gaze was intimidating, strong, and serious. Connor wriggled under his line of vision.

“I just… I _can’t_.”

“ _Bullpoop_ , Connor.” His teeth were bared, jaw clenched. His partner jumped at the alien profanity, and a slight pink crept up over his freckles. “We’re accountabilibuddies. We have to be able to _trust_ each other.”

“I _do_ trust you!” Connor lied with shaking hands and a wet mouth.

“Well…” Kevin leaned back, shrugging cluelessly, “why won’t you tell me then?”

“I just–”

“You know I’m trying to _help_ you, right?” Kevin’s genuine look of concern tugged at Connor’s heart. His ‘buddy’s face was growing red as he gripped dearly to the Book of Mormon rolled in his hands. He was scared. Connor could see how bad Kevin wanted to get out of this camp. He sighed hopelessly. He didn’t agree with this to any extent, but his conscience was nagging that this was the right thing to do, for both of them.

“…he was a friend of mine…”

The night dragged on with excruciating judgement. Kevin’s fingers would flip dexterously through pages of bookmarks and every so often he read a snippet of scripture as guidance. But otherwise he was silent, sitting with neatly-folded hands in his lap, not even the slightest hint of a consoling smile in place. Connor would tug at his collar and sweat and flounder over his own words with nervous laughter. And Kevin would sit in silence.

Words fell out of Connor’s mouth before he thought twice. He spoke heatedly of his childhood friend, all grown up and more handsome than ever. The way he would look at Connor, Connor at him, them at each other. How he broke chastity one night from letting his hand “slip” while he moaned the rhythmic, all-too-perfect syllables of _Steve Blade_.

How their junior prom ended on an unexpected high note when Steve–grown up, handsome, dark haired Steve Blade–pinned Connor down in the passenger seat of his car and mashed their lips together. He told, in embarrassing detail, of how he worked off his pants and watched Steve’s head bob up and down in his lap until he came all over his rented tuxedo pants. And then he told of how he rushed home, cheeks deep red in the aftermath, swatting and scrubbing at the stubborn stains on his slacks and praying to Heavenly Father for forgiveness.

The guilt forced him down the stairs to his parents with his tuxedo a mess and tears streaming down his cheeks. He hiccuped about Steve and about their tongues and about how scared he was that he enjoyed every minute of it. _Thoroughly_.

Then Mrs. McKinley scuttled into the kitchen, away from her disgrace of a son, to wail over the phone to Grandma McKinley that she would never have grandchildren because Connor was a sodomizer. Mr. McKinley raised his hand threateningly, then he balled it into a fist, then he relaxed altogether. He spoke calmly through chattering teeth of Connor’s dilemma.

“You’re confused.”

But the funny thing was, Connor knew _exactly_ who he was now. He was a dumb, barely eighteen-year-old, sorry excuse for a Mormon who sloppily kissed other boys and let them give him amazing blowjobs in the front seats of their cars in the school parking lot. He was a boy who passionately touched himself to the dazzling thoughts of ferocious sex with Steve Blade almost every night. He was a boy who only liked other boys, exclusively.

He was positive of all that.

Kevin nodded in agreement.

“I don’t think you’re confused.” His words were unnaturally warm and quiet in the dead of night. A small chill ran up Connor’s arm. Was Kevin Price–cold, robotic, stick-up-his-ass Kevin Price–really on his side? Even after hearing about the tongues and the prom and watching Connor turn beet red from reliving his excitement with Steve Blade, Kevin was on _his_ side? The redhead couldn’t help but toss himself down onto the mattress in relief.

“You don’t know how happy that makes me to hear.” A smile grew contagiously across Connor’s blushing face. His body was warm, his chest rising and falling as he snuggled into Kevin Price’s sheets. He took a deep breath–their comforting smell of another being soothed him. He hadn’t felt this content since prom night.

 

“Hey, Kevin?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think I’m going to Hell?”

“No.”

There wasn’t even a hint of hesitation.


	5. Chapter 5

“Camp is great!”

“Lying is a _sin_ , Connor.”

“I’m making lots of new friends!”

“ _Jacob 7:19_ states that lying is the unpardonable sin, Connor.”

“The food isn’t even half bad!”

“Heavenly Father’s shaking his head at you, Connor.”

The redhead clamped his hand over the payphone’s receiver to properly growl at Kevin Price, hovering uncomfortably close to his ear.

“I’m trying to use the phone.” He whispered. His ‘buddy gave a small shrug and pulled the Book of Mormon out from under his arm.

“But it’s a waste of time, if all you’re going to do is _lie_.” Kevin tapped the volume on Connor’s shoulder as a reminder. His partner rolled his eyes before turning back to the conversation with his mother. He teetered on his feet, nodding and “uh-huh”-ing in disinterest until he gladly ended with a warm, “I love you, too, Mom. Say hi to Dad for me. Bye.” The phone clicked back in place–Kevin let out a satisfied sigh and tapped the book on Connor’s shoulder once again.

“ _Jacob 7:19_.” He taunted in sing-song. Connor stuffed his hands into his pockets as he started down the hallway in brisk step. The taller one didn’t use much effort in catching up. “Hey… are you okay?” He cocked his head innocently to one side. Like a dumb puppy, Connor thought. An adorable, dumb puppy. With slumped shoulders, he hummed slowly through his nose.

“I don’t know.” He added that one to the lie tally. But after a moment, he rethought, “It’s just, I think I’m starting to get why everyone’s so miserable here.” Kevin laughed under his breath.

“Why, because we’re being brainwashed?” The other’s back straightened only slightly, ears perking up. A smile threatened to crack his pursed lips.

“Do _you_ feel like you’re being brainwashed?” His pulse quickened at the possible answer. And again when Kevin hesitated. Connor watched as the taller boy ran his fingers through his hair, and watched more intently when he licked his lips.

“I don’t know. Who cares.” He snapped back to proper Kevin Price posture, straight and professional. His partner’s grin twisted to a scowl. Two weeks they had been together, and he still didn’t want to open up. So be it. There was only so much he could do to try and break that stubborn shell of his.

“But really. I’ve been thinking a lot about Patrick and Sheldon. And how they’re not getting better. How _a lot_ of us aren’t getting better.” His thumbnail was chewed to the skin, but he habitually nibbled at it out of sheer anxiety. “Do you really think we can be _cured_?” Kevin busily began thumbing through the last pages of Enos as distraction. For a while he didn’t speak, as counselors bounded past towards the mess hall for an early lunch. They greeted the pair with happy waves and pats on the back–Counselor Grant congratulated them on their astounding progress. Then they parted ways, and the adults’ voices dissipated around the corner.

“I think it’s possible for _us_.” He finally whispered, when they were alone in the hallway. “But I don’t think it is for Patrick and Sheldon. I don’t think they even _want_ to be cured.” Connor didn’t know how to feel about that. On one hand, he knew how happy they were together. He could see it when they sat together at dinner–the two of them always smiling and laughing and “accidentally” resting their hands on top of the other’s. But on the other, what would their parents think when they come home completely unchanged? Connor felt sick at the thought.

“Do you think they love each other?”

“Patrick and Sheldon?”

“Yeah…”

Kevin bit his lip in thought. Then he gave a casual shrug of disinterest.

“I don’t know. I guess they could.” He suddenly shook his head, fast and ferociously. “But I doubt it. They don’t even know what love is, anyway. They’re too young.” His eyes darted down to his scriptures, nose almost completely buried in the book. Connor blushed.

“I think I loved Steve.” He mumbled. Kevin huffed, ears turning bright red at the thought.

“You didn’t.” His voice was cocky and confident, almost condescending. His partner pouted with his arms folded tightly over his chest.

“How do you know?” Connor was astounded by his accountabilibuddy’s ignorance. Kevin continued to surprise him with just how rude he could be.

“Having another boy give you a… _whatever_ in his car and then never speaking to him again isn’t _love_.”

“You’ve never even _looked_ at anyone the way the rest of us have!” Connor stamped his foot in childish protest. “How would you know more about love than I do? Because you _love_ Heavenly Father? Because you _love_ that stupid book that you carry around everywhere and break out when you want to _ignore_ me?” He furiously snatched the Book of Mormon from his partner before he could even fight back. Frantically, he turned page after page of the text, eyes scanning the flimsy pages in disgust. “What’s written in here that’s so important to you that you don’t have time for anything else?” Kevin pounced on the boy and wrestled with him to grab the book back.

“Maybe you would know if you were _half_ the Mormon I am!” His words were biting. Not his usual, side-handed degradation at all, but a seething mess of sweat and mussed hair and a grimace. Connor froze. A bitter smile pulled at his mouth. Softly, he laughed in the back of his throat.

“You sound like my father.”

Kevin’s scowl weakened.

“I… I didn’t mean that…”

There were tears running down Connor’s pink, freckled cheeks. His teeth gnawed on his cuticle enough to draw blood–he barely tasted the funny metallic in his state. Kevin watched helplessly as his partner cried himself into a heap on the floor. He was shaking and wheezing and his entire thumb was dripping from his self-inflicted wound.

“I’m sorry, Connor.” 

He knelt down across from him. Took a deep breath. And scooped Connor into his arms. The redhead gasped at the touch. Kevin Price–cold, robotic, stick-up-his-ass Kevin Price–held him dearly to his chest. And as he squeezed his accountabilibuddy with all his might, Connor was sure he heard him crying, too.

“I’m so, so sorry.” He whispered through wetted lips.

“It’s okay.” Connor couldn’t help but smile, and he nuzzled his face further against Kevin’s chest. “I’m okay.”


	6. Chapter 6

Kevin Price was tall and dark haired and blue eyed and perfect in every way. The way he stood with perfect posture and smiled wide and bright when he laughed at Connor’s dumb jokes was tantalizing and wonderful and had the redheaded boy weak in the knees. Even his name was perfect–the right amount of syllables in the right places, perfectly rolling off his hungry tongue in a sigh.  
_Kevin Price_.

 

Connor felt stupid and guilty every time his eyes would glance secretly over to his partner during lunch, or “accidentally” walked into the shared bathroom before Kevin was finished getting dressed. He especially felt guilty when his fingers found their way under his garments one night, and worked up and down until he groaned into his pillow. All while he thought of Kevin Price. Grown up, dark haired, handsome Kevin Price, touching him and grabbing his hips and using that wonderful tongue of his. Nothing else was relevant anymore. Even the utterance of Steve Blade forced no more than a confused, “Who?” from Connor.

He barely acknowledged the rest of the campers at their table, even when Sheldon slammed his tray down in anger. Kevin looked up from his scriptures in uncharacteristic surprise.

“What’s wrong?” He squeaked. Sheldon refused to speak. His ears were beginning to redden as he poked repeatedly at his vegetables. Patrick sighed.

“We’re going home on Friday.” He sounded resentful. Kevin twisted his face and shrugged.

“You are? Guys, that’s _great_!” He stood to give them both a congratulatory handshake. Connor watched and smiled in admiration. His accountabilibuddy continued to surprise him with just how sweet he could be.

“They’re letting us go.” Sheldon seemed on the verge of tears. “We’re not making any progress.” The boys’ smiles disintegrated. Connor and Kevin exchanged glances–the taller boy didn’t seem as surprised, but brokenhearted nonetheless. No one at the table knew what to say. Patrick was crying, his shoulders heaved in heavy breaths. Sheldon bit the corner of his lip and balled his hands into fists. His knuckles were white.

Kevin, always the optimist, tried a smile.

“Maybe there’s something else you can do.” No suggestions came to mind. Everyone knew all too well that the boys were stuck in a rut with nowhere to turn but home. Sheldon was quivering at the thought. Something about the welts and bruises along his arms told that his home life wasn’t very comforting.

“There’s nothing we can do now.” Patrick wiped at his eyes with the back of a trembling hand. Then he picked up his tray and left without another word. His partner got up directly after him.

“I have to go pack.” He muttered. And he slumped out back towards the dorms.

Connor felt sick to his stomach.

“I can’t believe it.” A knot in his throat tightened. It took all his strength to keep from crying. Kevin gave a defeated shrug.

“We knew it was coming.” He drawled matter-of-factly. The rest of the boys at the table nodded slightly.

“But there’s gotta be something we can _do_.” His voice cracked, threatening to bawl any second. He bared his teeth to fight back the tears. His partner’s jaw clenched, and he defeatedly flipped open the Book of Mormon to a random page.

“Only Heavenly Father can help them now.” Kevin’s voice was grating and bitter. He didn’t believe one ounce of his own lies.

 

“We should be asleep.” Connor reminded his accountabilibuddy for the fifth time. Kevin nodded absently before he flipped to the next chapter of his book. The redheaded boy groaned and tried again. “It’s one o’clock, Kevin. We need _sleep_.” His partner scratched at his chin as he mouthed along with the words of scripture. Connor lifted his head from Kevin’s pillow. “Earth to Kevin Price: _GO TO SLEEP_!”

Kevin finally peeled his eyes from his book and glanced over his shoulder.

“You’re in _my_ bed.” He reminded Connor.

“I’ll get up when you go to sleep.”

“I can’t go to sleep until you’re _out_ of my bed.” Connor sat up reluctantly, and fluffed Kevin’s pillow with care. But then he stayed put. Kevin rolled his eyes. “Can you _please_ stop fooling around? Today’s been a long day.”

“Why are you here?” The question finally came out again, after nearly three weeks of silent pondering. His ‘buddy stiffened up uncomfortably. His lips moved slowly as he gathered his thoughts–finally, he gave a small, condescending laugh.

“I… already told you that.” He stood and gestured for Connor to get off his bed. The redhead didn’t budge. He sat, legs crossed, staring intently into Kevin’s pale eyes.

“You didn’t tell me anything. You said someone spread a rumor about you.” He shook his head. “I think that’s the biggest lie you’ve told yet.” The tall boy stood awkwardly in the middle of the room and twiddled his thumbs, trying to seek out another scapegoat. His face was unusually pale and he continuously mussed his hair as he stumbled over excuses.

“It’s… it’s not important.”

“It _is_ important. I told you everything about me on my first night here. I think I deserve to know why you’re here.”

“It’s nothing, Connor.”

“If it’s nothing, why can’t you tell me?!”

“Because I… I think I’m _gay_!”

Connor’s heart stopped. Kevin teetered. He looked like he was about to pass out. Sweat ran down his brow and his cheeks glowed with red. Slowly he made his way over to his bunk–Connor moved to make room for him and watched as he hunched over his lap to sigh.

“I… I admitted myself here.” Kevin’s eyes were glossy and reddened already. His hands were clasped together tightly in his lap, and he refused to look anywhere besides his whitening knuckles. “I was doing so well in school. And even better in church. I was going to be a _missionary_ soon.” A glint of hope sparked in his eyes. “I was going to change the world. My family was so proud of me.” He swallowed hard, his jaw clenching. “And then I just started having these _dreams_.”

“Dreams?” Connor echoed innocently. As if he didn’t know exactly what Kevin was talking about. His partner nodded only slightly, ashamed.

“I don’t know where they came from. And then it got worse.” He looked to Connor with a sigh. The disappointment in his voice was palpable. “I started thinking about it when I was awake. I looked at boys the way I should be looking at girls. If anyone found out I would never be able to start my mission. So I signed myself up.”

Connor reached out to rest his hand on his friend’s shoulder. The slightest touch of his fingers had Kevin recoiling in fear. His eyes, tearing and wide, stared back at his ‘buddy hesitantly.

“But I’m not getting better here.” He admitted in a whisper. The redhead cocked his head.

“What do you mean? Mr. Grant says you’re the best camper here.”

“No.” Kevin turned from his partner out of sheer embarrassment. His hands were quaking and tugging violently at the hem of his shirt. “I still have those dreams. Almost every night.” He froze, doubled over his lap as he grabbed at his own shoulders. Slowly, he turned to look over his shoulder at Connor. A blush was creeping over his tear-drenched cheeks. “And they’ve only gotten worse since _you_ came here.”

Connor couldn’t help but laugh. But then he saw Kevin’s face, raw and genuine in the stray lamplight, biting his lip to keep more tears from falling. _Oh_.

“Are… are you saying…?” He couldn’t even bring himself to finish the sentence. Did Kevin Price–perfect, wonderful, sweet Kevin Price–have a _crush_ on him? The dark haired boy shook his head apologetically.

“I know, I know. It’s wrong. It’s so wrong and terrible and I… I’m sorry. You came here to get cured and now I’m ruining everything.” Connor’s heart skipped a beat. He must be dreaming. There’s no way a guy like Kevin Price could ever fall for someone as short and weak and quiet and unimpressive as Connor McKinley. This was all too good to be true.

“But… why _me_?” Kevin seemed unsure of the exact answer. For a moment he sat and twiddled his thumbs in silence as he thought it over. Then he shrugged.

“I don’t know.” He turned back to face his partner. Gradually, a warm smile swept across his lips as he looked the boy up and down. “You’re… nice.” Connor blushed.

“I’m _nice_?” Kevin Price may have been great at most things, but being articulate wasn’t one of them. The taller boy’s smile dropped and he looked genuinely horrified at how awkward he was becoming. In a huff, he threw himself face down into his pillow to hide from Connor’s gaze.

“I’m sorry!” He cried. “I’m so sorry I’m so bad at this! Just forget I ever said anything!” A hand waved the boy away to his own bunk. His accountabilibuddy stayed where he was, crosslegged on the bed beside the shaking heap of Kevin Price. With much hesitation, he placed his hand on the boy’s back and offered him a comforting rub down his spine.

“It’s okay.” He cooed softly. His hand stopped in the scoop of the other’s back–his fingertips made little circles on the bare skin, wet with perspiration. Kevin shivered under his touch. “I think I… I think we’re on the same page…” His thumb pressed down into the soft flesh. A small sigh left the taller boy’s lips, either out of relief or simple pleasure. His toes were curling as Connor’s hands roamed his lithe waist, and if he were to pull his head out of the pillow, his ‘buddy could see just how hard he was blushing.

“You… _like_ like me?” It was a childish but brutally honest question. Kevin helped himself up to properly see Connor’s reaction. The short boy offered an innocent smile.

“Y… yeah.” He inched closer to his partner. So close, he could feel the other’s breath on his face. His eyes darted down to Kevin’s mouth–he watched his tongue dance nervously behind his teeth and licked his own lips hungrily. “A _lot_.”

“O- _oh_.”


	7. Chapter 7

This sure was a learning experience. He had to admit, he was getting pretty darn good at this. He had to stop and catch his breath through his nose, and close his lips tight to keep from gagging, but he knew what he was doing. Maybe even giving Steve Blade a run for his money.

 

"Ah… _ah_! C-Connor!“ Music to his ears. He looked up to his accountabilibuddy, past his bare, heaving chest. Pulling his mouth away for a moment, and licking his wet lips, and giving a smirk.

"Do you like this?” Yukking it up, with all the confidence of Kevin Price himself.

"Y- _yeeeah_.“ With all the awkward sputtering of a celibate Mormon. Connor gave a measly lick to make his partner squirm. A chuckle vibrated in the back of his throat. "Please…” He licked him again, along the entire length of his blushing cock. “ _Connor_ …”

Instead, he pulled himself up, bodies pressed together, forehead to forehead. And their lips mashed into a spitty, sorry mess of a kiss. Kevin’s hands, shaking with a newfound uncertainty, ran through Connor’s beautiful red hair. He was needy. He wanted this. Wanted _him_. Connor’s heart thumped in his chest in syncopation to the other’s. He wasn’t used to this… this _wanting_. Steve had paid him a generous favor in the passenger seat of his car that night. But Kevin was wanting and needing and the thought tempted to send Connor over the edge.

His hips pressed down hard against his partner’s. Kevin gave a small yelp when he felt the boy’s hardness, poking incessantly at his own bulge through their very thin garments. His cock ached–the feeling was new and surprisingly undesirable. It was confusing, to say the least. His accountabilibuddy sucked away at the skin of his neck, a blush radiated over Kevin’s cheeks, and now there was an embarrassing new thing tenting the front of his very important and very secular undergarments. And yet, he liked the feeling. And he kept moaning like a wounded animal and hoping to Heavenly Father that Connor would just man up and fuck him.

There was a pause. Connor had reached down into his duffle bag, and now held a tiny foil package of something between his teeth. His hands fumbled with a tube, which squeezed out a viscous liquid onto a few of the boy’s fingers.

"What’s that?“ Innocently, like a child.

"It’s, uh…”

"Are we going to…?“

"Do you _want_ to?”

He didn’t want to answer too quick. He didn’t want to seem desperate, or in a rush, or anything but the perfect and devout Mormon he was always talked up to be. Slowly, he nodded his head. Connor seemed pleased, or at least heavily relieved. He made his way off from Kevin’s hips as he pulled away at the foil packaging with his teeth. The content was a sticky and small purple something that he played around with before slipping off his garments and rolling it over his _oh my gosh_.

Kevin snapped his eyes shut. He felt filthy even looking, regardless of how curious he was. He was a Mormon, and Mormons didn’t look at other boys’ penises, plain and simple.

"I can’t do this.“ He croaked. Shaking hands covered his dumb, blushing face. Connor paused, only slightly offended by his accountabilibuddy’s cold feet, and offered him a smile.

"You can.” He assured the brunette. And then he stopped, seeing the utter fear on Kevin’s face. “You… you _want_ to, right?” His confidence was fading fast. Kevin whined somewhere in the back of his throat.

"I do.“

A soft, loving kiss on the lips.

"Then stop worrying. I’ll be gentle. Okay?”

"O-okay.“

Then silence. Kevin’s teeth bared. Connor whispered for him to relax. Kevin couldn’t seem to find the exact meaning of the word.

He knew there would be a pinch. He didn’t exactly know what kind of pinch it would be–a "getting a splinter pulled out” pinch or a “getting your fingers stuck in the car door” pinch. Either sounded excruciating with the anticipation of entry. Connor seemed to be purposefully dawdling behind him, making low moans to odd, wet smacking noises that Kevin felt he shouldn’t be hearing. The redhead pushed an index finger against the other’s opening, and it slid in easily with the help of the sticky liquid. Kevin felt a rush, like a sweeping of hot and cold over his entire body. Not like a pinch at all. Connor pushed his finger in gradually. His ‘buddy tensed, and he stopped out of fear that he was hurting him.

"Are you okay?“

At first there was no answer. He had to ask again before Kevin simply nodded his head and managed to wheeze something out that sounded like a plea to continue. He obliged with a smirk. And he went back to work, in and out and in and out. His finger hooked just slightly, and Kevin moaned and ground his hips against the mattress like a desperate cat in heat.

“ _Please_ …”

He pushed in another. The brunette howled into his pillow as he arched his back. Small pants puffed out his open mouth. His body rocked to the motion of Connor’s fingers. His shaking legs splayed further apart on the sheets, the soft flesh of his rump reddening from excitement. The redhead could feel his cock twitch. Enough of this fucking around.

Kevin groaned when he pulled his fingers out, feeling empty and unsatisfied. His brilliant blue eyes glanced over his shoulder in dazed bewilderment.

“Why’d you stop?” He whined. Connor stroked the base of his own hardness with a lick of his lips.

“Are… are you _ready_?” Suddenly he wasn’t feeling quite so confident. A pang of surprise hit him when Kevin gave a nod before he settled back down with his head pushed deep into the pillow. Connor squeezed the tube for more of the sticky stuff, which he rubbed generously along the length of his penis and around the other’s opening. He could feel his accountabilibuddy tensing again. A shaking hand groped its way onto the brunette’s hip. The other tried its best to stay still. Slowly, carefully, he pressed his way into a whimpering Kevin Price.

“ _Ohhh_ …”

“Oh my gosh.”

“C… Connor…”

“Does that…?”

“N-no, it’s–”

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna–”

“ _Please_ , Connor.”

The springs of the bed squeaked as the two teetered in a sweating heap. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Connor reminded himself that the two of them could probably be heard across the entire dormitory. That the next morning they were probably going to be called into Mr. Grant’s office and given a stern talking to about the temptations of homosexuality, and of Heavenly Father’s plan, and how they had to allow themselves to be cured. Somewhere was the feeling of dread as he watched the beautiful Kevin Price be whisked away back to God knows where, never to be seen or heard from again. Somewhere, in the near future, this would all be gone. And he didn’t want it to be.

He wanted to remember the thrusting. And the awkward pauses as Kevin got used to the feel. And the sweat. And the moaning. And the tongues. The pathetic “oh Heavenly Father”s and the “Connor, I’m coming”s and the two of them finally falling into a mass under the sheets when they were finished.

Connor could hear Kevin Price’s perfect heartbeat all through the night. It thumped away in his dreams, where he still lay beside his accountabilibuddy, the two of them locked in a sweet embrace. For the first time in months, he felt at peace. He felt normal.  
He felt _happy_.

There was no way he was going to let anyone change that.


	8. Chapter 8

The doors could only be locked from the outside. Meaning they could also be unlocked from the outside. It was a glaring detail that neither of the boys managed to take into consideration.

Counselor Grant paced hurriedly across the floor as he spoke into his radio–something biting in a hushed Camp New Grace code about the two accountabilibuddies found naked in bed together. Connor was already gnawing anxiously at his thumb as he waited outside the counselor’s office. Kevin Price sat far away across the waiting room, his nose buried deep into his Book of Mormon. The air was still, almost chilled despite the balmy summer heat, and the two sat in tense silence. Things had gone back to normal so easily. All Connor had now was the memory of a night gone too fast, and the vague feeling of another person writhing beneath him. And the exciting new taste of Kevin Price’s tongue on his own.

"I’ve called your father.“ Mr. Grant spoke in a strict, harsh whisper after finally stepping out of the office. Connor could only nod in simple acceptance. "He’s agreed to let you stay for further treatment.” He paused, and quickly glanced over to the brunette in the corner. “You’ll be given a new accountabilibuddy. And a more intense treatment.”

His eyes narrowed as he observed the two boys. The disdain and disappointment on his face was all too obvious–he almost seemed ready to spit at their feet in disgust.

"What you did last night, boys, was _despicable_. You should both be ashamed of your sins. Having impure thoughts is one thing, but to act on them is beyond forgiveness.“ Mr. Grant folded his arms tightly over his chest. "I’ll be surprised on the day you both walk out of here ‘cured’.” He pointed a strong, jabbing finger towards a sniveling Kevin Price. “And I’m especially surprised by _you_ , Mr. Price. We all had high hopes for you here. How will you serve a mission now that you’ve failed Heavenly Father?”

The counselor waited for a response, or an acknowledgement, or anything at all from the star pupil. Kevin’s hands wrung hard at the hem of his polo. It took all of his energy not to burst into tears. Mr. Grant gave a last satisfied huff before heading towards the door. Only then did the boy lift his head.

"Fuck you.“

Counselor Grant turned slowly on his heels.

"Did you say something, Mr. Price?” He challenged. Kevin Price barely hesitated to stand up, the scripture held tightly in his grasp, teeth bared ferociously.

" _Fuck_ you.“ He spat again, so loud Connor could feel his heart skip a beat. The counselor balled his hands into tight fists.

"A-are you forgetting everything the church has taught you over the years? You are not permitted to use such language in–”

" _Fuck_ the church. Fuck _you_ and fuck the _church_ and fuck everyone who thinks this is okay. This isn’t fair to us. This camp is ruining our lives.“ The sudden crisp tearing of flimsy scripture had Mr. Grant and Connor equally surprised with Kevin Price, who stood destroying his precious Book of Mormon before their very eyes. Page after page of yellowed paper fluttered to the floor–passages on sin and salvation and sacrilege that Kevin suddenly had no desire for. The counselor grabbed to swipe the text from the boy’s destructive hands, to save the sacred words of Mormon before they snowed as scraps. But just as soon as Kevin had begun shredding, the remains of the blue binding sat in a pile at the man’s feet.

Counselor Grant knelt to gather the desecration in a hurry. He shook his head with a deep frown, still managing to belittle the boys as he looked up at them.

"We could have helped you.” His voice was low and bitter. The pages spilled over his arms as he stood to storm out the door. He had just stepped out when his radio rang out in distress a garbled “Code S. We have a Code S in 2-19. Please respond immediately.” Kevin and Mr. Grant both froze. The air frosted over as the counselor’s posture straightened.

“I’m… on my way.” He just barely croaked into the radio. With heavy regret, he found his way out down the hall, towards the older boys’ wing. Connor gave a relieved sigh once he and his accountability were alone.

“You cursed.” Tears gathered at the corners of his eyes as he chuckled. His partner was stoic.

“Yeah…” The redhead craned his head to see into the other boy’s eyes. Kevin was trying with all his might to choke back streams of tears that still managed to find their way down his cheeks. Connor’s smile dissipated.

“Hey…” He swiped a knuckle at his buddy’s wet chin. “Are you okay…?”

He opened his mouth to speak. But whatever sound he tried to muster was drowned out by the piercing wail of an ambulance, speeding its way to the front of the dormitories.


	9. Chapter 9

Neither of them wanted to accept what had happened.

Even after they reached the dorms, where counselors urged them to stay back as paramedics filed in and out of the shared bathroom. They refused to acknowledge the blood, and the idle confirmations of death, and the limp hand of the camper that hung over the stretcher as they rolled him out. They tried their best to ignore the small boy watching beside the doorway, who sobbed into his hands and shrieked for his accountabilibuddy now passed. Soon the bathroom was cleared out, the tiles disinfected and the bathtub sparkling, and Connor and Kevin nonchalantly brushed their teeth at the sink before walking down to the mess hall. The older campers picked at their breakfast and carried on small talk. No one dared to even glance at the newfound empty spot beside Patrick.

The boys trekked to their usual lessons for the day. Connor defeatedly headed to Counselor Grant’s office for his private courses, which dragged on until well after the dinner bell rang. He was handed a key to the newly cleaned room 19 just before lights out. The first night in his new room was spent in Sheldon’s abandoned bunk, listening to the breathless gasps of his new accountabilibuddy as the two cried themselves into a nightmare-ridden sleep. Patrick left early the next morning, completely unchanged by months of therapy save a few new scars up and down his pasty arms. Just hours later, a new boy took his place in the bunk above Connor’s–a meek Francis Zelder who spent his time pouring over scripture just as Kevin Price had. They commuted as if glued at the hip, walking side by side to the mess hall and classes and even to the bathroom to ensure each other’s safety. Never speaking a word to each other.

Another week passed before Kevin and Connor’s homecomings were scheduled. They barely discussed the news in detail.

"How are you?“

"Good. Great. I’m getting out next Friday.”

"Oh, so am I. Mr. Grant told me this morning.“

"So you’re feeling better?”

"Yeah. And you?“

"Yup.”

"Good for you.“

"Thanks. You, too.”

And they turned their backs to each other. And walked down to their separate rooms. And slept without a single thought of the other.


	10. Chapter 10

The clock ticked on the wall outside Counselor Grant’s office. Loud and uncomfortably slow.

Connor found himself glancing up to the minute hand with almost every tick of the second hand. Tapping his fingertips on the handle of his suitcase. Humming happily, if only slightly impatient. The door would open any moment, and Mr. Grant’s beaming face would poke through and announce that Connor was finally going home. Any moment.

Any moment.

He groaned as he sunk down into the chair. His foot kicked at his duffle bag like a petulant child.

“I wanna go home.” He whined under his breath.

The door clicked open slowly, as if on cue, and Connor could feel his heart skip a beat. His posture straightened as he grabbed for his bags. But he deflated a moment later, when Kevin Price stepped into the waiting room instead of the head counselor.

“Oh.” The redhead squeaked. Kevin offered a small wave before settling down in the seat across from him.

“Hi.” He tried a smile. Connor refused to reciprocate. “Well… this is it, huh?”

“Yup.” The other boy idly chewed on the corner of his thumb nail. Refusing to look up and meet Kevin Price’s bright blue eyes. The taller one stretched, giving a small yawn. Connor just caught a glimpse of his pale skin under his shirt. He twisted his face into trained disgust.

“So when do you leave?” Idle chit-chat. The redhead succumbed. He could humor him for their last few minutes together.

“Any minute now.” He gestured to the wall clock with a jerk of his head. Kevin feigned interest.

“Neat.”

And more silence. The clock ticked on. The minute hand had finally decided to inch over.

"How’re you feeling?“

”Fine.“

Kevin pursed his lips. His palms rubbed nervously against his khakis, his cool eyes staring intently across to the boy. Just barely, he inched his way to the edge of his seat.

"I’m sorry.” He was shaking. Connor gave a clueless shrug.

"Sorry for what?“ He finally gave a short glance to Kevin. It was as if everything–every memory from the past month–suddenly came back to him. The tears and the laughter and the happiness and the tongues and the loss and the feeling of knowing who he was. It all came back in an overwhelming slap to the face, just from looking at Kevin Price. Handsome, apologetic, perfect Kevin Price.

”…it’s in the past.“ He simply muttered. Kevin’s shoulders visibly slumped as he sighed.

"I know.” Then he shrugged. “I didn’t… _mean_ for any of this to happen. I just want you to know that.”

"I know.“

"Everything that happened… I feel like it’s all my fault, and I didn’t do anything to _stop_ it.” His voice cracked, all too obviously on the verge of tears. Connor bit his lip to keep from assuming the same. He didn’t need this now. He was about to leave, any minute, and finally live a happy, heteronormal life. Why did Kevin Price choose now to be so verbal?

"You can’t help everyone, you know.“ Connor felt a small smile tug at his lips. The brunette mimicked him, if only to lighten the mood.

"I know.” Another sigh. “I could have helped Sheldon.” Sheldon. How could Connor forget about Sheldon Church so easily?

"You said it yourself. He was a lost cause.“

"But I could’ve _helped_. If I wasn’t so caught up with…” His pale eyes glanced to Connor’s lips. They snapped shut and he shook his head furiously to rid himself of bad thoughts. The redhead swallowed the knot in his throat.

"Maybe… maybe he’s in a better place now. With Heavenly Father.“ Kevin groaned. Right. Still on that "fuck the church” kick. Connor leaned forward. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” His hand trembled as it reached to rest on Kevin’s knee. The taller boy gave a little gasp of genuine surprise. His eyes shot from the other’s hand to his gaze, brilliant and brown.

"You didn’t, either.“ He gave his first genuine smile in a week."And frankly–and I’m sorry if this is inappropriate to say, but–I don’t… I don’t regret what we did that night.” Connor was hit by a wave of astounding surprise. Against his better judgement, and against everything he had been taught over the weeks, he lept across the room. His arms wrapped dearly around his friend, and he breathed a sigh of contentment when he felt Kevin’s hands on his back. He nestled his blushing face into the other’s chest and took a long breath in for old time’s sake. To remember.

Counselor Grant, just as planned, poked his head through the doorway. He smiled gratefully to see that Connor was ready to go.

"You’re father’s here, Connor.“ He gestured out to the main entrance. The redhead pulled himself from Kevin Price in a hurry.

"O-okay. I’ll be right out.” The door closed again, and Connor was left to sadly hike up his bags. His heavy brown eyes looked to Kevin Price, tall and handsome and smiling sweetly.

"This is it, then.“

"I guess it is.”

Connor could feel the tears rolling down his freckled cheeks. He felt stupid. Stupid because he didn’t want to leave, if only to be with Kevin forever. But the brunette laughed and offered a thumb to softly wipe his tears away.

"You’ll be _fine_ , pal.“

And he placed a goodbye kiss on his forehead.


End file.
